


Live as a Turk, Die as a Turk, Except for When You Don't

by Selador



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Discussions of death, Gen, friendly violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief discussion about the mortality of Turks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live as a Turk, Die as a Turk, Except for When You Don't

**Author's Note:**

> Gift exchange with the lovely nolifeinabox! Some more Reno & Tifa for you, though a bit darker than called for during this festive time of year. But Reno and Tifa are great, so I think it more than makes up for it. Enjoy! 
> 
> PS. (I got cookies and biscottis in exchange, and they were delicious. Gift exchanges rock, though I'm sorry this is late.)

“What’s your problem?” demanded Tifa after punching Reno out for the fifth time that night.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Reno said to his whiskey. Bright white gauze stood out on his face where Tifa might have hit him a little harder than normal. If her defense, he had been a little more annoying than normal that night.

Tifa glared at him. “I give you free booze,” Tifa stated. “And no one else is here. You tell me, or I’m banning you from my bar until you stop causing trouble.”

Reno sighed aggrieved, but as expected, launched into explanation. “It’s that Valentine dude, yanno?”

“Vincent,” Tifa nodded. She knew Vincent. For some reason, he was actually pretty good at talking to Cloud. Instead of their issues creating a larger cesspool of issues, Vincent’s seemed to know just what to say to help other people. Though Tifa wouldn’t pretend that helpful as Vincent was, he seemed content to rot in his own past. “What about him?”

“He’s been helping us out at ShinRa,” Reno said, motioning with his hands more than the situation called for. He also ran his hands through his hair and narrowly avoided knocking over his glass. “’Once a Turk, always a Turk,’ because it’s a job and you can retire, but once you live the life, it never leaves you right? And Vincent, he never left him, he’s almost more a Turk than I am, though shit. The thing about being a Turk is that you’ve got _rules_ to follow.”

Genuine puzzlement. “Has Vincent been breaking the rules?” She wouldn’t have thought Tseng would stand for that.

“No, not with us, but—he’s a fantastic Turk, but he slept with his boss’ wife, and actively tried to fight him, which—damn, if that happened with any of us before the reform, we’d be dead, no question.”

“Vincent helped us save the world,” Tifa pointed out. It seemed relevant. Also, Reno was clearly bullshitting, though Tifa wasn’t sure why. In any other circumstances, Reno probably would support someone secretly sleeping with their boss’ wife.

“I know that, and yanno, we did too, once we knew what was happening.”

“After you tried to kill us a few times,” Tifa added delicately.

Reno grunted confirmed. “Sorry about that, by the way.” Tifa shrugged dismissively.

“I still don’t understand what bothers you about Vincent. And don’t bullshit me this time.”

“Yeah,” Reno grimaced. She knew him well enough that calling him out on his lies wasn’t uncommon, but he was always displeased when she called him out. “It’s—I mean, I’m a Turk, right? Rude’s a Turk. Elena’s a Turk. Tseng’s a Turk. Granted, the career path and job description are a bit different with the reform, but the basics are the same. Turks are specialty agents. We get the dirty jobs. Dirty has a new meaning now,” Reno said hurriedly, “but it ain’t a job that guarantees a long life span. I’m out doing undercover most of my time, I bodyguard Rufus who still has a shit ton of people who’d rather he be dead, I exterminate the monsters still out there, I still got a shit ton of enemies from old jobs. I’m pretty sure there’s an entire town that wants me dead down south. I’m good at my job, but all it takes is one mistake, and I’m done.”

Tifa’s jaw clenched. She was aware.

“And that’s, that’s it. One chance for me. One for Rude, one for Elena, one for Tseng, and it’s over. And that’s how it is, yanno, live as a Turk, die as a Turk, expect—Vincent didn’t. He lived as a Turk and you can even say he died as a Turk but he—woke up again. And that’s—that’s not going to happen again.”

Throat tight and mood taking a pendulum change, Tifa said, “Oh, Reno,” and reached for his hand across the bar. He let her take it. “How long has this been bothering you?” _How long have you been thinking about your and your teammates’ inevitable deaths?_

Reno shrugged. He stared at the bottom of his empty glass. To fill the silence, Tifa got up to get the whiskey jug to refill his glass. “Since Vincent started working for the Turks. He isn’t officially a Turk on paper again, or employed by ShinRa, but Tseng asks for his help on some missions, and—he comes with.”

Tifa poured herself a drink.

“I’ve way exceeded my life expectation,” Reno admitted. “I ever tell you that I was recruited for the Turks from the street when I was fourteen?”

Tifa shook her head. Reno had mentioned before that he had started young, even for the Turks, which had struck her as odd as Turk recruitment usually had come from the SOLDIER applicants. The minimum age for the program had been sixteen.

“I pick-pocketed a Turk, who was just walking down the street,” Reno said with vague, misplaced, amusement. “I didn’t know. I didn’t get very far before she caught up with me. I thought I was going to die. That’s what happened to street rats who got caught, after all.” In one swing, his glass became emptied once more. Tifa decided that he had had enough. “Was brought into ShinRa and got trained. I thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to me.” Wry now, he chuckled. “I guess it was. Probably would have died on the streets.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Tifa interrupted airily. “I’m sure you would have found some way to survive and make your way in life. Like a cockroach,” Tifa added mock generously. “I would bet that you would have crossed paths with us at some point.”

“Hell no, I would not have gotten caught up in this mess if I wasn’t being paid for it.”

“Right, because you mind your own business and like to live a quiet life.”

Reno laughed properly. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I like trouble too much.” The mood, while briefly lifted, resettled into the previously morose flavor. “One of the reasons I kept coming back here after most things were settled was because you can call out my lies better than pretty much anyone. I needed to know how you did that and practice not getting caught in my lies, because in the field, well.”

“Reno, I know you way too well for your lies to work on me now,” Tifa countered immediately. “And it’s not a comment on your skill, it’s a comment on how much I trust people who have tried to kill me before. I was never going to believe a word from your mouth, even if we had been allies.”

Reno brightened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I have never been happier to hear that.”

They sat in silence for a while, until Tifa stood to clean up. Reno thoughtfully helped her. Afterwards, Tifa rapped her knuckles across Reno’s head, which made him wince, as Tifa didn’t do it at all softly.

“Let’s get out of here and go spar,” Tifa said while walking out, with every expectation that Reno would follow. (He did.) “We can’t stop death but we can keep ourselves prepared.”

“Not even death,” Reno said with a smirk, “is a better deterrent for mistakes that being beaten up by you.”

“Then all is as it should be. And when you make a mistake, I’m giving you an extra ass-kicking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tifa and Reno really do make for interesting friends, don't they?


End file.
